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Authors: Nicola Claire

Tags: #Vampires, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Adult

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BOOK: Blood Life Seeker
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Gregor teases my tastes. He endeavours to lure me with variety. I have fallen for his trap on several occasions, but this latest donor is special. I don't know why, but I do know I must keep it from him. Whatever reason the petite brunette holds my heart, I must not let Gregor know. I must not let anyone know. It would be a weakness to show any favour.

He finishes with his blonde, glazes her, kisses her, but I can tell his heart is not in it. He hungers for more. She leaves and his silver eyes bore into mine.

"Come, my friend. It is time we spread our wings a little, no? You have remained indoors for too long. Whatever ails you, I have the cure."

An hour later I find myself at a residence in the
Arrondissement de Passy
. It is plush, almost of the same standard as the
Palais
. Rich paintings adorn the walls, fine fabrics cover the furniture, wood polished to within an inch of its life surrounds us. Silver ornaments, gold gilded frames. The place is too overly done for my tastes. But the Parisians of today seek opulence in abundance. It is also full of humans. Their heartbeats meld together in a rhythmic thrumming that calls to my soul. Gregor is floating. He is in his element. This is one of many places he brings me to, in an effort to divulge his own desires. He wants me to let go. I don't know if I can. A chill has invaded my body and settled within.

He feeds from one human, then satisfies other cravings with another. He insists I partake of what is on offer. I will shamefully admit, I am tempted when he encourages me. I have on occasion given in to that Dark desire, but not this night. He is disappointed in my lack of interest. I cannot help it, I see the wreck before it has even happened. I am on a collision course with Gregor and I cannot pull away.

The image changes and I am finishing a meeting with another Council member. It was tedious and I am hungry. I let my mind wander to what awaits me in my chambers. My donor has promised she will wait for however long it takes for me to wind this up. I make the correct platitudes, I offer the correct answers, I even indulge in a casual conversation about the unseasonable weather we are having. To anyone watching I am the epitome of diplomatic, a politician on top of his game.

Another scene, another memory. Another human laden room with succulent scents invading my nostrils. I feed, only because I am hungry and because it will keep Gregor off my back. I choose a blonde on purpose. They have been my preferred for a century and just because my tastes have suddenly and inexplicably changed, does not mean I cannot hide it. But she tastes hollow. They all do now and no matter what I do I cannot reclaim my passion. I am lost.

A meeting. Quiet words whispered in my ear. The Foreteller has had a vision, he says it involves me. To be the subject of the Seer's attention is not something to covet. He often predicts disaster. I expect what he will show me this time will be no different.

It is. Full of light and promise. A young woman, perhaps 22 years old. Running on the hills of a farm. Green meadows, lush woods behind her. I hear a brook or stream. I see the lambs in the distance. She laughs at their waggling tails. She is beautiful. The chill that has resided inside my soul for so long, thaws. I am stunned.

She will be born in the New Land, the Prophesy awaits her arrival
. The Foreteller's words stay with me for days.

Another scene. It is
La Belle-Époque
in Paris.
Cabarets, Bistros, Music Halls.
Moulin Rouge
,
Folies Bergere,
Gregor accompanies me to them all. I attempt to drown myself in culture. To feel something more than the chill that takes over my mind and heart. Nothing works. Not even the optimism of the time. Food is plentiful. Flesh equally so. I have had my fair share. Gregor hungers for more. But I am empty. Unsatisfied. Cold.

He notices, but says nothing at first.

A Council meeting, dinner is served. From the plenitude of bodies parading before me, I numbly select one. It isn't until she is in my lap that I realise she is brunette, not blonde. Gregor watches me, eyebrow lifted. I am starting to make mistakes. This will not end well.

Another social event. I am barely aware of the crowds. The heartbeats no longer register. The only thing that thaws the chill is the memory of
her
. The vision the Foreteller has provided me keeps me afloat. I cling to her image like a life preserver. I cannot stop from dreaming of what she will be like. What will her parents call her. Something pretty, to match her face. Something uplifting, to match the light she shines with.

I want to be there when she arrives.

I have to be there.

I will be there.

Gregor in my chamber, we've just returned from another human filled event. I can't remember what it was for. It is all a blur. My only thoughts are of
her
.

"What is wrong with you, my friend. Where is your joy of life?" Gregor's voice disturbs my ruminations. What will the New Land be like?

I attempt a smile for my friend. For two centuries he has been by my side. He has provided a measure of enjoyment. He has been a confidant, a companion, an ally. I am grateful for the friendship he has awarded me. I know what I must say will hurt. But what choice do I have? Stay here and become more inept. The more chill that spreads across my body, the more vulnerable I am in this environment. My enemies will not hesitate to take advantage.

"I hanker for a change of scene, my friend," I hear myself saying. Gregor stands. "I have been here too long." Three centuries as the Creator. It is enough. I tire of politics. I tire of Paris. I crave
her
.

"What do you mean?" His stance is aggressive. His vampyre wishes to challenge me. I will not fight him.

"I have resigned, Gregor. I leave tomorrow." I can only hear weariness in my voice, but inside there is hope.

He is shocked. This is a surprise to him. Not to me.

"Where are you going?" He takes a step towards me, his hands are still in fists. I sigh.

"To the New Land. I wish to claim it as my own." A partial truth. I will forge a new life there, but only because I await her.

"The New Land, are you sure?" His fists are loosening, his stance not yet.

"Yes." I have never been more sure of a thing in my life, regardless of the fact that I am called to a vision of the future which may not eventuate. I will take the chance if it means I may banish the chill.

He lowers his head, thinking, then surprises me with, "I'll come with you. Together we can make the New Land ours."

My heart breaks. I would welcome his company. But I cannot chance his hunger if he should meet her first. I will not share. Not this one. Not this woman.

A lump forms in my throat, a heaviness in my heart. I know what I must do. He must not be tempted to follow me.

"No, my friend. Not this time. I wish to be alone."

"You are everything I want to be, Michel. Can you deny me, your friend, this?"

Yes. For her I will deny myself everything.

I call upon a part of me I have not had to use in so long. I let the vampyre-within out. Magenta washes the room between us, my fangs descend, a low growl comes from the back of my throat.

"I have tired of more than just this city, Gregor. I have tired of you. Your constant need, your inability to stand alone. I no longer wish for a faithful puppy. You've fed off my scraps long enough. Now go!"

The lie tears at my heart. He will suffer. I have brought this upon him. I am not worthy to be called friend.

But I cannot see an alternative. He must not follow me there.
She
is
mine
.

I see the damage before he speaks. I feel the pain before he utters a single word. I am bereft.

"I see." So cold. Almost as cold as the chill inside of me. His eyes flash silver and platinum. Such a beautiful combination even when filled with such hatred as now. "I will not forget this,
my friend
." He spits the words at me as though they taste foul. I smell the bitterness on the air.

He leaves without a further word. He does not look me in the eye.

My mind releases the memories like a dog relinquishing a favourite bone. I had kept my secret from my friend, but he had not forgotten me.

Gregor didn't kill my kindred, because he wants to exact his revenge on me.

“He said he was a old friend of yours. Michel, what's wrong?” Lucinda's voice. How many times had she asked that question while I reminisced?


He is no longer a friend." I manage woodenly. "He is the Enforcer for the
Iunctio
." He has you in his sights, my love and he intends to hurt me. He could also, quite easily, kill us both.

I gather myself, I do not want to deliver the death blow, but Lucinda has walked into a vengeful Master's web. "He is their
guillotine
.”

Read on for the first chapter of book three in the Kindred Series: Forbidden Drink.

Full Moon

I hadn't planned to be here, I didn't really want to be. I had hoped things would be a little different, that was for sure. Jerome
had
made it quite clear, that being on Hapū land tonight could prove fatal. Besides it being
Rākaunui
, which is never a good time of the month if you're visiting shape shifters, it was also the night of the challenge.

But then of course, that was why I
was
here.

Since returning from Paris one week ago, I'd been trying to get my former best friend Rick to agree to a meeting, but he'd been evasive. Hell, he'd been missing in action. I had visited
Tony's Gym
, where he works as a kick-boxing instructor, twice daily for the past seven days, but he'd just been a no show. No explanation to his boss, no idea what he was up to, just vanished.

Not to be out-done, I'd phoned continuously, leaving messages on his home phone as well as his cell phone. And when that didn't work, trying Celeste, his fiancée and also a good friend of mine. But she'd either been turned against me by Rick's absolute hatred of vampires and anything to do with them, or she simply didn't want to be in the middle anymore.

Fine. I could take a hint, but then I am also extremely stubborn when I set my mind to something and stopping Rick from making this fundamental, idiotic, absolutely ridiculous mistake was at the top of my shit list right now. And trust me, to be at the top, it's gotta be big. My shit list is long and complicated and includes two master vampires fighting for my affections, the vampire governing body, the
Iunctio
, breathing down my neck waiting for me to screw up, and oh, the latest, the entire world population of Darkened vampires homing in on me and heading my way. And that's not even mentioning the Prophesy.

But, one thing at a time. Shape shifters and shape shifter politics.

Rick used to be my best bud, we did almost everything together. He was my kick-boxing instructor, my bar-hopping mate and someone I could talk to about all the supernatural crap that invaded my life. Being a shape shifter he was privy to that world, being my friend he didn't judge, just lent an ear. But, then things changed.

The shape shifters helped me fight a particularly nasty master vampire named Max and in the process one of their young Taniwhas, Rocky, died. I'll never forget Rocky, he was so full of life. And I'll never forget watching him die. It's just something that will stay with me forever. Since then, Rick has changed. I'm not entirely sure that some of what he has become wasn't lurking in the background before and I never saw it, or if Rocky's death was what did it. But since that battle, since the Taniwhas came to my aid, honouring a centuries old alliance they had with my kind, Rick has changed.

Now he wants to hunt the creatures of the night, he wants them all dead. Not that I don't sympathise with some of that desire. I'm a vampire hunter, it's in my blood to hunt and kill the Darkest of the creatures of the night, but they are not all bad. In fact, I'm joined to a fairly decent one. Well, most of the time he's decent and some of the time he's a manipulative son of a bitch, but he has Light in him, as well as Dark. But because of that Light, he does not deserve to die. Rick disagrees. He thinks I've gone soft, or been glazed by vampires into believing something that is not true. But Rick's the one who's had his mind messed with. I don't know if it's grief or years of pent up anger, but he's not thinking straight and I've got to do something about it.

He challenged Jerome, the Hapū master and a really nice, down to earth, kind of guy. And as an alpha in training, Rick's challenge is for that top spot, Alpha. A challenge like that can only have one outcome, one winner. To win, someone has to die and Jerome has told me, it will be him. He can't bring himself to kill Rick. Although not his biological son, Rick is like a son to Jerome all the same, and Jerome just can't end his life that way.

So, here I am. Hiding out on Hapū land, trying to stay downwind of those super sensitive noses, trying not to make a sound, as I approached the central area, where all the houses are and the cars park and they have
Hangis
and gatherings and live their communal lives with such love. And where they will watch their Alpha fight their Beta and someone die. It is ludicrous, but they are not entirely human, are they? They're Hapū and as much as I don't understand what's happening tonight, I cannot stand by and not do something. I just can't.

It had taken me a good twenty minutes to make it on foot  through the woods that surround their homes, not to mention having to cut through the barbed wire fence that surrounds the land, keeping Norms out and allowing the Hapū to run free on the
Rākaunui
. But I finally made it to a decent spot, still hidden, but able to take in most of the scene before me.

I could feel the tension, I could smell the fear. If you don't know already, I'm also not entirely human too. I'm a kindred Nosferatin, a descendant from a long line of vampire hunters, but more than that, I'm from the same line that vampires, or Nosferatu, descend from as well. So, I've got a little bit of them in me too. I don't need blood to survive, but I'm fast, strong and have heightened senses, such as smell. I've also got a little bag of Nosferatin powers to call on, but I'm seriously hoping none of that would be necessary tonight. Not that I'm sure any of it would work against Taniwhas, my powers seem to be specifically related to the undead, but you never know.

In the few minutes I'd been sitting there, hiding behind a bush, more and more of the Hapū had come out and positioned themselves around the clearing, in a big, uncomfortable, feet shuffling circle. Some of them had blocked my vision, but they were all too riled to stand still, so the shuffling from foot to foot was a help. At least I could see through the gaps and get a glimpse of what was about to happen in the glow of all the tall lamps of fire that rimmed its edge. The flicker of the flames lighting the area leant an eerie cast to the setting, making goosebumps rise on my bare arms. At least it wasn't cold, summer was making an early appearance, thank God.

Just what did I plan to do when Rick and Jerome came out? I didn't really know, but if I could stop this I would and to hell with the consequences. I would not stand by and watch a friend die right in front of me again and do nothing to prevent it.

Finally they both came out at the same time, as though it had been agreed upon, or they had just simply felt the other emerge from their home and came out too. The silence was all-encompassing. I couldn't even hear any insects in the undergrowth any more, nor birds in the trees. Everything was holding its breath.

Part of me still thought this would stop, this wouldn't happen. Rick would come to his senses or Jerome would say something that would appease Rick and it would all be over. Hugs and kisses all round. But, I've seen how bad people can be, how bad creatures can be. Sometimes there is only Dark and even the Light can't be seen.

The rich, deep timbre of Jerome's voice filled the night air, making my heart thump in my throat and my hands clasp over my mouth to stifle a gasp.


You have been called here tonight to witness a challenge.” He turned in a circle, looking at each of his Hapū members. Taking his time, making sure to see them, I guess, one more time before he died. How could he face this and be so strong? “Your Beta wishes a different path for you, than I can condone. Tonight will decide which path you take. I ask only this, as your current Alpha, think wisely before you follow blindly, do not walk into temptation without a second glance. We may not be a democracy in a Hapū, but we have honour. Do not forget that
kairakau
, do not forget your honour.”

“Enough.” Rick spat the word at Jerome, the look on his face so alien, so not right. I had never seen him look at Jerome with anything but love and respect before, this was so wrong, so not Rick. “You are a weak Alpha. You don't have the strength it takes to keep us proud, to keep us strong.”

Jerome just shook his head sadly. “You think pride equals prowess, you think strength equals dominance. Have I not taught you anything,
tama
.”

“I am not your son.” Rick's fists were clenched, his face grimaced. Jerome just sighed.

“You called the challenge, Rick, what limitations will you have?” Jerome just sounded tired now, like he'd given up, he wanted this to be over.

“No changing, we fight as men and the victor leads the hunt on the
Rākaunui
in our true forms.”

There were howls from the crowd, human voices raised in inhuman sounds. Whether they agreed with what Rick proclaimed, or didn't, or just were too exited being a
Rākaunui
and couldn't wait to change form with the victor, I couldn't tell. But there was a noticeable hitch in power through the clearing, enough to make me sit back on my butt, blown back by the force of it.

Taniwhas are supernatural creatures too, they have their own power to call on when they change and right now, they all wanted to change. I could hardly draw a breath, the force of that combined otherworldly power washing over me, making my body tingle, my chest tight and my head pound. Even getting up and walking into that circle suddenly felt impossible. I couldn't move.

I fell silently onto my side, drawing a short breath in and then another and another. All I could see was a sideways view of the clearing, through the brush, through the legs of the excited crowd, to Jerome and Rick, a few feet apart, facing off at each other. I tried to to open my mouth, to say something, to scream
stop
, but my mouth wouldn't move, couldn't move. The slow realisation that I was about to watch my ex-best friend kill another person, someone I think I can also call a friend, and do nothing about it, dawning in my mind. Like a cancer I wanted rid of, but knew it had passed that point of no return, no longer possible to be stopped, no longer possible to be excised. Just like Rocky, I would stand by and watch this happen and do nothing to stop it.

I'm not usually one for tears. I was raised on a farm. Every Spring I would fall in love with the lambs only to have them taken by a truck at the end of Summer to the slaughter house. When I was very young, my parents, my Aunt and Uncle actually, would make a story up, so I wouldn't know what was about to happen to them, but when I turned five, my Uncle, decided I was old enough to know the truth. I cried that Summer, like I had never cried before, but it didn't stop them from herding up the lambs, from loading the truck and from the truck driving away to the abattoir. My Aunt cooked lamb for dinner that night. I don't think she was trying to be cruel, I think it was just what she had it in the freezer and that was what dinner was that night, but I didn't want to eat it. I swore I'd never eat lamb again.

But then I smelt the roast from my bedroom, the succulent smell of rosemary and garlic, roast lamb and potatoes wafting toward my room. I'd been crying all afternoon, unable to face my Uncle, but the smell of that delicious meal pulled me out of  my bedroom and into the dining room. My Aunt and Uncle didn't say anything when I sat down at the table and started eating my meal. They didn't apologise for taking the lambs away to be killed, they didn't ask if I was OK, they just nodded, as though I had done a brave thing and went on with their meal.

I learnt a valuable lesson that day. Some things you can change, some things you just can't and others you just have to accept for what they are. Tears didn't help. Reality doesn't answer to a sob. So, I try not to cry, whenever I'm faced with something that is too much to bear. I try not to, but sometimes there are some things you just have to cry over. And lately, I seemed to be having that issue more and more.

I felt the hot wet flow of tears down my cheeks into the dirt and dust of the underbrush beneath my face. My vision became blurry, my breathing more of a hiccup than a shallow gasp. I was still unable to move, the Taniwhas power escalating to such a level that I felt frozen in time, but I could see everything. Although distorted, I could tell what I was looking at. Man on man, beast on beast, it's all the same when you're fighting to the death. Taniwhas are strong, even in their human form, they can rip a man's arm off, use their human teeth to tear flesh from bone, their nails are not claws, but the marks left behind can be just as deadly.

Jerome fought for a while, I think it's instinct to fight back. You either give in to the flight response immediately, or you fight. He didn't have a choice to flee, he was only ever going to have to face this and not run, but initially he fought back. He landed a few blows, he made Rick's job harder, but then he settled into it, like an old familiar coat, he accepted it's weight. And when Rick had least expected it, when he had resigned himself to a battle to the end, Jerome simply stepped forward at the right time, angled himself towards Rick's fist at the right moment and let physics take over.

He went down like a dead weight, because that's what he was.

I held my breath, just as those gathered held theirs and Rick slowly stepped forward and knelt by his mentor, his Alpha, his enemy, confirming he was dead with a howl from his thrown back head. Letting it carry away on the wind under the gaze of the Full Moon.

The rest of the Hapū began taking up the howl. At first so fierce and then so sad, like a lament on the night air, they mourned their leader, they cried through their howls and they said their goodbyes.

I still couldn't move. I knew the predicament I was in. If someone found me here, it would not be pretty. Not only had I witnessed a private sacred Hapū rite, I had witnessed murder and on top of that, they were about to change and nothing could stop them now.

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